


Not Like That

by ilostmyshoe



Series: Especially Great Communicators [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bickering, First Time, Hand Jobs, M/M, Oral Sex, Snark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-27
Updated: 2013-11-04
Packaged: 2017-12-27 18:01:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/981947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ilostmyshoe/pseuds/ilostmyshoe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Part of the “drama and misunderstandings and hurt feelings and foolishness” that followed the Winchesters’ first kiss in “Not Just You.” The boys share the same feelings, but that definitely doesn’t mean they’re on the same page. Luckily, bickering absolutely counts as foreplay when you’re a Winchester.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

No offense to his brother, but it should be obvious that Dean was the sexual expert in the family. Before this thing between them started he was hooking up on a pretty regular basis. In contrast, he could count the girls his little brother had even _kissed_ since Stanford on one hand and still have a couple of fingers left over. He knew that Sam had always been a bit of a prude, but now it had reached a whole new level. The kid refused to even make out if either of them had been drinking at all, and it was really starting to piss Dean off.

The first time he could kind of understand. He’d been really wasted the night of his melodramatic confession, and he’d been glad Sam had waited to kiss him until the morning after. It meant that he got to remember the whole thing in clear, shining detail, as opposed to the blur of the previous night. And that kiss had definitely been something he enjoyed remembering.

Since then, though, Sam had turned out to be a stickler about this “no making out after drinking” thing, which Dean thought was total bullshit. Everyone knew that alcohol was a natural social lubricant. You hung out at a bar, had a few drinks, and then hooked up. It was a simple, easy concept, but somehow too complicated for his freak of a brother to understand.

A few days after that first kiss, for example, Dean went out for a few drinks and came back buzzed and horny. When he leaned down to kiss his brother, though, Sam laughed and pushed him away.

“Gross, dude. I could smell you from across the room. Just go sleep it off.”

Dean grumbled about it, but he was tired enough to fall into bed with minimal protest. When the scene repeated itself over and over, however, Sam’s laugh got more forced, and Dean’s protests got louder.

“What the fuck, man? I thought you were cool with this, but now I can’t even kiss you?”

“Me? You’re the one who needs to be drunk to make a move! What am I supposed to think? That this is a mistake you can only make with alcohol as an excuse? Or just that you need a couple of drinks in you before you can get up the balls to touch me? Fuck that.”

Sam didn’t understand. It wasn’t liquid courage–Dean had never needed any help in that department–it was just that trying to initiate things stone-cold sober was fucking awkward (and sadly lacking in any actual fucking). Sure, Sam didn’t seem to have a problem randomly leaning against his brother or dropping a light kiss on his mouth. But he always did it in the daytime, and often in public or while they were in the middle of an investigation. There was always a reason it couldn’t lead to anything more, and Dean started to wonder if his brother was doing it on purpose. The whole thing was ridiculous, and each Winchester seemed determined to have things his way, but in the end Dean was the one who caved.

* * * *

They got back to their motel in the early afternoon, with the current ghost identified and some time to kill before they could hit the graveyard for a simple salt-and-burn. Sam had spent the last thirty minutes of the witness interview with his leg pressed flush against Dean’s, then complained about the heat and stripped down to his undershirt and boxers as soon as they entered the hotel room. Dean rolled his eyes at his brother’s (deliciously toned) back and heaved a put-upon sigh.

“Okay, fine Sammy. Have it your way. I’m sober. You’re sober. Your rules are met, and I give in. Let’s do it.”

Sam turned around and rewarded him with an epic bitch face. “Seriously, Dean? ‘Let’s do it?’ Jesus Christ, I can’t believe you ever get laid.”

“Whatever, dude. You’re my brother. One of the perks of this whole thing is that I shouldn’t have to woo you like some girl. Now, come on. I want it. You said you wanted it, and I can see ‘little Sammy’ is interested . . . Let’s do this.”

“What do you mean by ‘this,’ Dean?”

“You know, _this_.” He gestured vaguely but emphatically.

“No, I don’t know, asshole. If I did I wouldn’t be asking.” Sam rolled his eyes. “See, this is why I didn’t want to try to do this when you were drunk. It’s hard enough getting a coherent response when you’re sober.”

“Fuck you. I know what I mean, you know what I mean, why should I have to say it out loud?”

“You know what they say, Dean: ‘If you can’t talk about it then maybe you aren’t mature enough to be doing it.’”

“Oh, is that what you fancy-schmancy college kids say? I know what this is as well as you do, but that doesn’t mean I want to _talk_ about it. I’m sorry, I guess the word ‘incest’ doesn’t exactly get me in the mood.”

“Not ‘incest,’ asshole. All those other big, complicated words like ‘sex,’ ‘hand job,’ ‘blow job,’ ‘rimming,’ ‘fucking,’ . . . I know you’re proud of your limited vocabulary, but I bet you can come up with some if you try real hard.”

 “Okay. I see. You want a formal proposal before we do anything. Do you prefer typed or handwritten? Is there an official letterhead? How about this: Mr. Dean Winchester, Esquire, respectfully requests the permission of Mr. Samuel Samantha Winchester to stimulate the latter’s phallus manually in the pursuit of eventual mutual climax. This proposal may be extended at will to cover the oral stimulation of the young Mr. Winchester’s neck, nipples, and aural cavity.”

Sam shoved him. “Oh, shut the fuck up. Is sex-talk really such a foreign concept for you?”

“Dude, dirty talk during sex can be hot as fuck. But talking stuff out ahead of time is just awkward as hell. And since you’ve already rejected my suggestion of alcohol to ease the conversation . . .”

“Yeah, I’m still shockingly not okay with you getting drunk to fuck me. Seriously, Dean, it’s not that hard to say something like: ‘I think we should make out for a while, and then I want to try to suck your brains out through your dick.’”

Dean started sniggering at the phrase “make out,” and when Sam said the word “dick” he exploded into uncontrolled laughter. Sam turned beet red.

“Shut up. It’s not funny. It’s totally a thing that you could say. I heard it in a porno once, and . . . oh, fuck it. You’re right. I totally sounded like an idiot.” He shook his head and started laughing too.

Dean wiped tears from the corners of his eyes and tried to look serious as he put his hand on his brother’s shoulder. “It’s okay, Sammy. Maybe you just have a dirty-talk impairment. I hear it’s a rare and tragic condition.” His eyes took on a predatory glint and he leered. “Or maybe we just need to find something better for you to do with that mouth. I believe you mentioned my dick?”

Sam rolled his eyes, but as he opened his mouth for a snarky reply his brother pulled him down into a kiss.


	2. Chapter 2

Finally. This was the part Dean was good at. He smiled against Sam’s lips and gently pulled his brother down onto the bed. He pushed Sam’s hair away from his face and used it to tilt his head back and deepen the kiss. Sam’s hand slid across Dean’s shoulders and down his back to firmly kneed his ass. Dean sucked on his brother’s lower lip, then kissed his way across his jaw and down his neck, stopping to nip and suck when he found a particularly sensitive spot.

Sam moaned. “D-Dean?”

“Hmmm?” Dean hummed, worrying the skin between his teeth.

“Umm – I – uh – d-do you remember your – mmmm – proposal from before?”

“Mmmm-hmmm.”

“Well, uh, I just w-wanted you to know that it t-totally has the official Sam Winchester seal of approval.”

“Is that right, Sammy?” Dean turned Sam’s head so that he could whisper in his brother’s ear and slid his other hand down Sam’s chest to lightly stoke him through his boxers.

“Uh-huh.”

“And what about the optional extension?”

“Oh, uh, yeah. That’s good, too.”

“Good,” Dean murmured in his brother’s ear. He licked around the rim and firmly grabbed Sam’s cock through the fabric. Sam gasped, his hips pushing up into Dean’s grasp.

Dean chuckled and sat up slightly. “Off,” he said, patting Sam’s hip. For once, Sam followed his brother’s instruction without argument, stripping quickly and turning back in time to see dean pull a small bottle of lube out of his pants pocket.

“Seriously, man? You’re like the world’s horniest boy scout,” Sam scoffed.

Dean just smirked as he poured a liberal amount of lube onto one hand and used the other to push Sam back down onto the bed.

Suddenly Sam tensed and grabbed Dean’s wrist. “Wait, you just said phallic stimulation, right? I mean, it’s not that I don’t want to do other stuff–at least I think I will–but right now I don’t know that I’m ready for . . .”

“Relax, Sammy,” Dean reassured him. “I meant what I said about nobody doing stuff to you without permission. My hand won’t go anywhere you didn’t agree to, okay? No surprise butt sex, I promise. Just your dick, my hand, and some lube to smooth the way. I’m gonna make it so good. Trust me. Just lie back and let it happen.”

Responding to the look on his brother’s face and the reassuring tone of his voice as much as the words, Sam relaxed fully against the bed and closed his eyes. He let out a small gasp when the cool liquid first touched his already erect cock, but then he began to gently roll his hips in time with the strokes of Dean’s hand.

That hand maintained a smooth and steady pace as Dean pressed the rest of his body along Sam’s and returned his mouth to the spot on Sam’s neck. Sam’s breathing began to speed up, interspersed with moans and whimpers. His hands clutched at the sheets as Dean stroked him faster and rolled his hand over the head of Sam’s cock every couple of strokes. Sam’s thighs trembled, and his hips began to jerk.

Dean sucked harder on Sam’s neck and gave his dick a couple more firm, quick pulls, and then Sam cried out and his whole body shook with the force of his orgasm. Dean worked him through it and then gently released his hold and wiped his hand on the sheet before resting it on Sam’s chest.

For a minute neither of them moved or spoke. Then Sam took in a shaky breath and released it with a sigh.

“Jesus Christ, that was good.”

Dean smirked.

Sam stretched, put his hands behind his head, and closed his eyes. “Well, I’m pretty beat, so I think I’m just gonna relax and maybe go to sleep for a bit, okay?”

“Wait, what? What the hell? Sam? Sam!” Dean sat up and shoved at his brother’s shoulder. “You can’t be serious!”

The only response was the sound of soft snores.

“What the fuck? Oh, you selfish, little _shit_. I swear to _god_ I will stab you in your sleep.”

Sam burst out laughing. “Relax, Dean. I can’t believe you’re that easy. I guess the thing about the blood rushing away from your brain really must be true. Don’t worry. I’d never actually leave you hanging.”

Dean just glared at him as Sam sat up, gently spread his brother’s legs, and knelt in between them. Sam looked at his brother with apologetic puppy-dog eyes and a slight smile on his lips as he leaned forward and unfastened Dean’s pants. Dean pulled off his shirt and then grudgingly leaned back on his elbows and lifted his hips, allowing Sam to remove both pants and boxers in one smooth pull.

Sam held eye contact as he leaned down and pressed a kiss to the inside of Dean’s thigh. He kissed a trail along his brother’s pelvis and sucked firmly on his hipbone. He ran teasing fingers up and down Dean’s cock before grabbing it firmly at the base. Then he took the head into his mouth, and Dean moaned.

Sam pumped his hand up and down Dean’s shaft, tongued at his slit, and began sucking harder and bobbing his head, taking Dean deeper on each down-stroke. Sam’s other hand reached down to massage Dean’s balls. Dean’s hips began to tremble with the strain of not thrusting into the wet heat of his little brother’s mouth.

When the tip of Dean’s dick bumped at the back of Sam’s throat, Sam kept his head down and swallowed around it a couple of times before pulling back for air. He repeated the gesture, and Dean pushed at his shoulder, grunting out a warning, “Sam. S-Sam I’m gonna . . . I’m gonna come . . .”

Sam pulled off, stroking Dean’s shaft briskly and lapping at the head of his cock, before swallowing him down again just as his orgasm started. Dean’s entire body shook and his hands clenched at Sam’s shoulders as he worked him through the aftershocks.

Dean opened his eyes to see his little brother smirking down at him. Sam slowly licked his lips. Dean groaned and threw an arm over his face as his cock twitched in response. Sam laughed and sprawled next to his brother on the bed, their arms and feet just barely touching.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took me a lot longer than expected because apparently porn is hard for me to write. Oh well. Practice makes perfect, right? Comments, critiques, and suggestions are always more than welcome.

**Author's Note:**

> There's supposed to be porn at the end of this, but I've been stuck on it all week, while the bickering basically wrote itself. Basically there will be a chapter two with actual fucking at some point, almost for sure, but I couldn't get the tone (or even the blocking) right, so I wanted to upload this in the meantime.


End file.
